Page 66 of Hot Shot

I sign in and find the room, checking the place out as I walk across the lobby and past the dining room. This place is pretty luxurious. In a sitting area, a few older ladies sit on plush couches in the glow from elegant lamps and a crackling fire in a big stone fireplace. They all watch me with interested eyes as I walk past.

An older gentleman shuffles the opposite direction with a walker.

“Henry!” The female voices call to him. “Over here!”

I grin.

In the Friendship Room, I find a couple of boxes with Carrie’s name on them and open them. I pull out a bunch of white feathers. Jesus effing Christ.

They turn out to be table centerpieces, tall black vases with feathers on top. I set about moving the tables to the edges of the room as Carrie requested, covering them with red tablecloths and setting feathers on each table. Then I find the battery-operated lamps with red bulbs and arrange them in the four corners of the room. As I’m setting out bowls of gold-wrapped chocolate coins, a woman pushes in a cart that holds pitchers of a red beverage, plastic cups, and trays of cookies.

“Hi,” she says with a smile. “You must be Marco.”

“Yep.”

“I’m Dianne. I’m the recreation coordinator here at Años Dorados. I’ve been working with Carrie to organize the party.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“Can I help with that?”

She gestures at a counter along one wall. “I’m going to set these out on the counter. Thanks.”

Carrie breezes in as we’re arranging food and drinks. I blink at her.

She stops, props a hand on her waist, and cocks a hip. “You like my outfit?”

I swallow. A short black slip dress skims her curves and a tiny black hat with a veil perches on the side of her head. Bright red lipstick shines on her lips and black high heels make her already amazing legs look stunning. “Uh, yeah.”

“Wait till you see Grandma.”

“She’s . . . not gonna strip, is she?”

Carrie’s laugh is like sweet music. “No. Although she’d probably do it.”

Dianne laughs too. “She brings so much life to this place.”

I watch Carrie flit around the room checking things out. A few women come in and Carrie greets them with that luminous smile that makes everyone feel like they’re a king or a queen or a fucking rock star. Apparently Carrie gets her high spirits and joy of life from her grandmother.

Two more women enter; okay one of them a teenager . . . Julia. Her face lights up when she sees me before she tempers her expression into truculent teenager. Too late. I saw it.

She really is a good kid. Carrie was right. I got to know Julia better while she was working at Conquistadors, and she has good values. She works hard, she’s honest, she’s smart. She’s made a few bad decisions, but who hasn’t at that age?

Julia heads my way, the woman trailing behind her presumably her mother. I can see a resemblance to Carrie in their coloring and their eyes, but her sister’s face is sharper with a pinched expression. She’s going through a divorce apparently, and nobody knows the details, but I can guess what happened just from the way she looks. She’s bitter. Betrayed. And angry.

Fuck.

Lauren isn’t supposed to know about the work at Conquistadors, so when Julia stops in front of me and says, “Hi, Marco!” I wince.

“Mom, this is Marco. Marco, my mom, Lauren.”

I hold out my hand and smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

Lauren shakes my hand, eyeing me curiously. She looks at her daughter. “I’m sorry, who’s this?”

The look on Julia’s face nearly makes me laugh out loud. Christ. She’s a smart kid, but she didn’t think this through. I’m searching for an answer to that question when Julia blurts, “This is Aunt Carrie’s boyfriend.”

---